My Lunch Today

Posted on November 18, 2011 by jroesler728

We have stories in the Bible of God asking people to bring what they have to Him and then He takes the scraps we bring Him and does a miracle. One example of this is the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand.  If it were my task to feed that many people it would not occur to me to ask for a little boy’s lunch so I could get started. Clearly Jesus did not need the lunch.

One of the conundrums of aging is the increased frequency of being expected to do the impossible. It can be as simple as remembering an essential detail or as complex as trusting God for the salvation of one that is desperately loved. It can be that we are driven to seek justice for a person, relieve suffering or bring hope. It might be as practical as providing food and shelter for someone hungry and homeless.

Is there a pattern in the story of Jesus feeding the five thousand that I can follow? Is it possible that my part is to bring my lunch and His part is to do the impossible? If so, what is my lunch?  What do I have?

I am learning, when I hear a crushing story, to ask God to help me understand what my part is in this particular story. Today, for one story, my part seems to be prayer and availability. If my phone rings I will answer it. If I am asked to come, I will go. While I wait, I will pray.

What do you have for lunch today? If Jesus needs it will you give it to Him?

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I Can’t Find My Glasses

Posted on November 16, 2011 by jroesler728

This is a confession that I hear regularly from my friends and I say it just as regularly myself. This week, this true story, reveals a place to look for them that I have never thought about before.

Two friends and I had spent time talking around a small table. A few minutes after we had all gone our separate ways, one of the friends came back to the place we had met and asked if I had seen her glasses. Together we looked to no avail.

After searching everywhere, this friend called the third friend and asked if she might possibly have picked up the missing glasses. 

Follow this conversation:

Could you possibly have picked up my glasses?

Do they have brown frames?

Yes

I think I have them. I think I am wearing them!!

Can you see out of them?

No!

What are you doing?

The laundry.

Well, I will have to come and get them because I can’t see without them!!

End of conversation.

It is high risk to have old friends, but very precious and lots of material for laughter.

 

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What Keeps It from Falling?

Posted on November 11, 2011 by jroesler728

I am blessed to have a beautiful back yard view from the place where I meet with God in the mornings. I can watch His handiwork as the seasons change. Today as autumn is in its final days and winter is signaling its arrival, my eyes have been captivated by a big brown ball of a nest that is precariously perched at the very top of spindly branches that move easily with the slightest breeze. Most of the yellow leaves are down from this tree but this bulk of weight remains.

As I watched the nest this morning, a squirrel hopped out of it and ran down one of the fragile branches. The squirrel was not careful but rather carefree. It did not spend time evaluating the risks of spending the night with such little support. Or, did the placement of the nest provide absolute safety, as no predator would be supported by this flimsy access.

I wonder how many times I worry about what looks like a risk to me when adding my “support” would actually increase my danger.

Aging can strip us of that which we have learned to lean. Is this a time when we can learn to lean on Him, alone?

What losses are pending for you?  To Whom are you looking for security?

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Designed for Dependence

Posted on November 9, 2011 by jroesler728

A common expression of older people in conversation i,s “I want to live as long as I can be independent, but I never want to be a burden.” One of our most respected Christian writers has caused me to think more deeply about this subject.

John Stott, in his last book entitled, “A Radical Disciple,” has chosen dependence as a
component of discipleship that is modeled by Our Lord Jesus Christ. Stott says, “You are designed to be a burden to me and I am designed to be a burden to you.”

I have often said to people who resist help, “you are not designed to make it on
your own,” attempting to promote the concept of community. To take dependence to
a place of dignity is a deeper challenge. Stott reminds us that Jesus was born a dependent baby and died on a cross, unable to move; yet he never loses his dignity. Stott then concludes that if dependence was appropriate for God, in the person of Jesus, it is certainly appropriate for us.

I wonder how embracing this view would affect our fear of becoming dependent or of
becoming the caretaker of someone who is dependent. Could we stop lamenting, interrupt our repetitive apologies and risk thinking the burden we bring may actually be a blessing? The idea is like a salmon swimming upstream, but it has a captivating ring of truth
that makes me want to risk looking for it in my responses to people today.

What have you learned about dependence?  How can we give dignity to a dependent person? How can we grant dignity to our dependent selves?

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Tell Me the Story Again

Posted on November 7, 2011 by jroesler728

Yesterday my five-year-old granddaughter came to visit me in my office. I had some paper and markers ready for her. She printed my name (Besta). I am amazed at how fast she is moving from having been a baby to becoming a little girl.  As she sat on her mother’s lap my memories took me back to the days when her mother was my co-worker.

When this co-worker learned that she was going to have this baby she began planning to be a stay at home Mom. I was feeling sad that we would not be working together but also excited that she would be a mother. As we talked about how this would all be, we decided that since the real grandmother lived in Australia, I could “adopt” this baby as my grandchild. We decided to call me Besta (Norwegian for Grandma.)

I went along to the ultrasound appointment and saw my precious little girl being knit together in her mother’s womb. One day, about half way through the pregnancy, there was a little note taped to my office door. It said, “Good night, Besta, I love you.”

I decided to tell this story to my granddaughter yesterday. I told her that her daddy and mommy had prayed for a baby and then she started to grow inside her Mommy’s tummy. I said that when she was still living in her Mommy’s tummy she had written me a note.

On hearing this story this child’s eyes grew big and her face reflected delight. “Besta,” she said, “will you tell me that story again?” Nothing would have pleased me more than to tell it again and let her soak in the story that will remind her that she was planned for and wanted.

I need these reminders for myself. I am thankful that prayer is both talking and listening.  When I listen to God He reminds me that He thought carefully about how to make me and knit me together in my mother’s womb. (Psalm 139) He made me because He wanted me to be in His family and to call Him Abba, Father. I am one of a kind and that makes me precious to Him.

He never tires of my asking, “Abba, Tell me the story again.”

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Now You Are TWICE MINE!

Posted on November 4, 2011 by jroesler728

The story you are about to read was told to me years ago by a missionary who had worked in Brazil.  I am sure my memory of it has reworked some of the details but the power of the message prevails.

Once upon a time there was a young boy who lived along the Amazon River. His family lived in a small hut. They made their living by harvesting sugar cane. Because the afternoon sun was scorching hot, the fieldwork was done in the morning. This left the afternoon, when the grown-ups were resting, for the boy to play.

He didn’t have any toys so he learned to be creative with his carving knife and pieces of wood he would find in the jungle. His masterpiece was a boat that he had been working on for a long time. He carefully planned the shape of the boat so it would both look great and work well. He carved every detail skipping nothing until finally he was satisfied that it was done.

With the strongest cord he could find he took his boat to the river. It was even more fun than he imagined as it sailed through the currents of the river and responded to his guidance. After several hours he secured it tightly to a strong tree and walked home.

That night he was awakened by a frightening storm. The wind and the lightening made him scared that maybe his boat would be torn loose and lost. When light dawned he raced to the river. His heart sank when his worst fears were realized. The cord was hanging from the tree but the boat was gone. After searching everywhere he went home with a broken heart.

A couple of weeks later his mother asked him to go into the village to the general store and buy a few things. As he reached the store his heart leaped into his throat. There for sale in the window was his boat.

Talking so fast he was barely understood he told his story to the owner of the store who was unconvinced. No, the man insisted, a fisherman sold me this boat last week.Now the young boy knew his only hope was to buy it back.

He made arrangements with his father to work in the afternoons as well as the mornings. It was hot and hard but maybe…

Finally he had the money at which the boat was priced. As he ran to the store he was filled with fear that someone else might have already bought it. But when he got to the store the boat was still there.  He laid his money on the counter and the owner of the store counted it carefully. Then he picked up the boat and handed it to the boy.

Hugging it to his chest with both arms the boy was heard to say to the boat, “Now you are twice mine, I MADE you and I BOUGHT YOU BACK.”

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Jumper Cable for Prayer

Posted on November 2, 2011 by jroesler728

Sometimes it is very hard to pray. It could be because of a broken heart, dashed dreams, or simple fatigue. Maybe the prayer seems to have been prayed so long that expectations for an answer have faded.

I drew a circle this morning and cut it into 6 pieces. It looks like a pie. I labeled the pieces with these headings: Passionate Love, Heartbroken Disappointment, Humble Gratitude, Terrifying Doubt, Unbridled Anger and Bedrock Trust. They seem like strange bed partners but each of the six have shaped my prayers today.

I wonder what words you would use to describe the content and theme of your prayer?

But then there are the days when the prayer won’t even start. I have found help in the sequence of Psalm 27: v 6&7. David sings to God before he talks to God.

Sometimes a hymnbook can be a jumper cable for spoken prayer.

What jumper cables have you discovered?

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It’s Fun to Clean???

Posted on October 31, 2011 by jroesler728

When a conversation is remembered for 60 years one wonders if it was what we would call a teachable moment.

It happened while we were cleaning our country church’s basement. It was being done by the Ladies Aid women and even though I was a small child I was on the team. Children in this community were not placed somewhere so the parents could do something. Somehow the kids did it too and grew up thinking it was a normal thing to do.

I have a vivid memory of the furniture of the room and the windowsills being filthy. I wasn’t very happy about helping with this project. I didn’t say anything but my facial expression must have been loud and clear because a large older lady who was washing away said with enthusiasm, “It’s fun to clean when you can see where you’re cleaning!”

I looked at the table we were washing. It was easy to see where her soapy rag had scrubbed and what was left to do. I doubt she knew that 60 years later this comment would be impacting my life.

How will my attitude change today if I embrace the attitude that it is fun to clean when you can see where you are cleaning and then underline it with a joyful spirit?

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Touched by the Son in a Mystical Way!

Posted on October 28, 2011 by jroesler728

Story Contributed by Ken Chandler

The following story was written for me at my request. I have heard this almost 94 year old man tell this story in his strong melodic voice. The story happened when he was 25 years old. I am so grateful to share it with you. I am only sorry you can’t hear him tell it himself. Read it slowly and imagine each word coming straight from the heart of this lover of Jesus.

God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform!

It was a glorious day. I was told that I had graduated from the hospital, where I had been a tuberculosis patient for nearly 9 months, to a cottage. The cottage was for those who had reached a level of healing allowing them to live alone.

My meals were brought to me from the hospital kitchen about a block away from my cottage home. Heat for my dwelling was a pot bellied wood fired stove in the middle of the room. For sleeping there was an open porch where more than once I found snowflakes at the base of my bed; but the air was clear, fresh, invigorating—this remedy for TB back 65 years ago.

After 3 months in the cottage, I was told that I could walk to the hospital dining room for one meal a day. I chose breakfast. This was the first walk in the open air in over a year. Freedom!!! 

A crisp evening snowfall had covered the ground and the roof of my cottage. An exquisite aroma from my pot bellied stove filled the air. There were places where the snow had crystallized and glistened in the early day—touched by the sun in a mystical way. It was glorious.

I walked slowly, breathing in God’s creation with every step and then quite suddenly I noticed a bright red glow reflecting off the pristine whiteness of the snow. I stopped, knelt by its side, and found to my astonishment—a rose.

I brushed aside the snow to make certain that what I saw was real. Yes, a rose. The rose surviving the coldness of the night—vivid, brilliant, vibrant with a sense of holiness about it.

He came to mind—Jesus.

The snow was the coldness of our hearts made clean by the precious blood he shed for us. I cannot imagine a rose surviving the coldness of the night, but God speaks to us in the coldest of our days, the darkest of our days, to bring us everlasting life.

God works in mysterious ways, His wonders to perform.

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The Rubber Plant Doctor

Posted on October 26, 2011 by jroesler728

This post will be more meaningful if you scroll back and read “Casey’s Rubber Plant” from April 29, 2011 and “Tending the Rubber Plant” from May 20, 2011.

I don’t know where the summer has gone! I had intended for the Rubber Plant Doctor to make a house call in the early spring so the plant could enjoy a season outdoors. But it is now autumn and instead we will need to prepare it (or them) to spend the winter in the house.

I say them because one plant has exceeded all my expectations of growth and health. It no longer fits the original pot. We need to divide it into three. We don’t want it to be “root bound” and wither.

The doctor will be 80 on her next birthday. Her mind is 25 but she doesn’t kneel easily so the surgery will be done sitting on a stool.

I think I will tell this story in a way that will allow you to learn the procedure. So here is “How to Make Three Rubber Plants Out of One.”

  1. Take all the furniture out of your kitchen.
  2. Cover your kitchen floor with a small tarp. Remove the small tarp and replace it with a big one.
  3. Lug the Rubber Plant to the kitchen and set it in the middle of the tarp. Tip the plant carefully so it will slip out of its pot. (It won’t.)
  4. Find a screw driver and poke it through the hole in the bottom of the pot pushing the roots out.
  5. Say you are glad for the tarp because now there is dirt all over. With four hands, two of yours and two of the Plant Doctor’s, grasp at the root bound soil and find it resistant to movement. Gradually you will be able to trace the root system to the stalks of the rubber plant and realize you will need heavy duty tools.
  6. Gather large scissors (which will not work), a coping saw (which will not work), a large butcher knife (which will not work), a hack saw (which will not work), and a hand saw. (This will work.)
  7. Let the Plant Doctor decide where to saw.  (It requires experience, competence and faith to rip into this root ball with the force required to crumble concrete and believe the end product will have a better chance of life than before this traumatic act.)
  8. Relax a little when the doctor says, “I like the nice strong roots still clinging to this stalk.” The doctor seems to be growing in enthusiasm. Let yourself whisper to yourself, “Maybe I didn’t kill it.”
  9. Go and get the bigger pot you have planned for the transplant.
  10. Go out into your yard and steal (from yourself) the decorative rocks you have carefully placed around the perimeter of your pond.
  11. Place the rocks in the bottom of the pot. Insert a stake (you can use the dowel from your miniblinds) in the hole in the middle of the pot.  Surround the stake with the stolen rocks.
  12. Scoop in several cups of indoor potting soil guaranteed to grow plants.
  13. Let the Plant Doctor insert the root system as this has to be done with precision just so deep and so close to stake, rocks, pot etc.
  14. Cover the roots with soil almost to the top of the plant. Press down firmly, especially where the doctor says to press.
  15. Discover you don’t have any cord for securing the plant stalk to the stake so find an old pillow case and cut narrow strips. The gracious doctor will say that this works “great.”
  16. Tie the strips in a figure 8. When you ask the doctor why she will say so that you can keep them tight without strangling them.
  17. Find a spot where the plant can get plenty of sun. (But not too much.)
  18. Water the plant until the saucer it sits in flows over. (Mop up the extra with a towel unless you have a turkey baster which I don’t.)
  19. Repeat the above steps two more times so the rubber plant becomes three.
  20. Sit with the doctor, drink a cup of tea, eat a scone, and tell each other what a fun afternoon you have had together.
  21. Plan to repeat this adventure once or twice a year (there are other plants in my house).
  22. Laugh with the doctor between each of the above steps.

Reflect on what God means when He talks about pruning so you can produce more fruit. Will you let Him cut the roots that run too deep?

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